


seaboard

by zarahjoyce



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M, Gen, HELLO ALL, I'm just glad I got to write Jonsa again lmao, I've missed you
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-28
Updated: 2020-08-28
Packaged: 2021-03-06 21:54:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 802
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26156077
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zarahjoyce/pseuds/zarahjoyce
Summary: "Where am I?" she asks, soon as her constricting throat actually allows her to speak. "Who-- who are you?""Someone saving you," he replies, giving her a short smile before turning away from her."Savingme?" she repeats, trying to make sense of all that's happening - assuming there'sanyto be found. "By kidnapping me?""Well--" He scratches the side of his chin and shrugs,"--thatdepends on how you look at things."-a jonsa pirate AU because why not
Relationships: Jon Snow/Sansa Stark
Comments: 21
Kudos: 109





	seaboard

It's some time after she's set to sit down _somewhere_ that the cloth covering the entirety of her head is _finally_ removed. This allows her to spit out the strands of hair that's been trapped at the side of her mouth for what had seemed like hours - as well as breathe rather normally.  
  
Or, as normally as one does when one is actually _kidnapped_.  
  
From her own _wedding ceremony,_ no less!  
  
She blinks rapidly, her vision trying to adjust to the sudden onslaught of light, when from her side someone says, "Better?"  
  
 _Better?_  
  
She turns to look at the man _still_ holding the bag that was on her head mere moments ago - momentarily struck speechless at the inanity of the question.  
  
 _Better?_  
  
"Where am I?" she asks, soon as her constricting throat actually allows her to speak. "Who-- who are _you?"_  
  
"Someone saving you," he replies, giving her a short smile before turning away from her.   
  
_"Saving_ me?" she repeats, trying to make sense of all that's happening - assuming there's _any_ to be found. "By kidnapping me?"  
  
"Well--" He scratches the side of his chin and shrugs, "-- _that_ depends on how you look at things."  
  
"How I--"  
  
Realizing that she's basically repeating parts of _his_ statements, she snaps her mouth close and tries to think instead.  
  
Glancing around her, she finds herself inside some sort of... cabin. Most likely in a ship, considering the gentle rocking of their surroundings and the general sloshing of what sounds like _water_ outside. Her hands are tied in front her - the personal doing of this man right after he'd snatched her from the altar's front - and no matter how hard she tries to free herself, the bindings still hold firm.  
  
She focuses on the door at the side - partially open, from the looks of it - and well, perhaps--  
  
"You won't get too far if you run out."   
  
She finds him rummaging for something atop a table before pocketing what he'd found. "I-- beg your pardon?"   
  
"I can hear it." He glances at her and gestures at the side of his head. "The gears in your head. You're thinking of escaping."  
  
Instead of denying, she snaps, "I hope you're grateful you can't hear my exact thoughts, as they're not by all means _flattering_."  
  
That gets him to _laugh_. "I take it you _want_ to marry lily-livered Bolton?"  
  
 _\--No!  
  
Gods, no._  
  
She'd rather be _dead_.  
  
And yet--  
  
"I want to be on _dry land,_ " she answers by way of not answering _at all_. "Not here, trapped in this-- this filthy thing. I want to be _free._ " She shakes her bound wrists for emphasis. "Please. _Please_ let me go and I swear--"  
  
"Filthy?" He looks around him and says, almost sounding _offended_ as he does, "I thought Sam did a good job tidying things up, actually."  
  
\--of all the things she'd said, he fixates on _that?_  
  
She exhales loudly. "Look. I believe you've mistaken me for someone else. _Obviously_ you've kidnapped me for ransom but I assure you--"  
  
"You really don't recognize me?"   
  
The question - as well as the fact that he's now holding up a _dagger_ \- catches her off-guard. Terrible terror slowly engulfs her chest as he steps nearer and nearer, and it's a miracle she hasn't fainted the very moment the weapon comes closer to her neck--  
  
\--until it goes even lower--  
  
\--until it's in between her bound wrists, and with a quick cut the ropes are slashed and her hands are now _free._   
  
He's standing right in front of her now, and something about how he's looking at her renders her unable to glance away from him.  
  
She rubs at her wrists and carefully asks, "Should I?"  
  
He hides the dagger somewhere in his person and says, "Guess I can't blame you. We _were_ both pretty young when I left Winterfell."  
  
And the confusion just keeps piling up. "Winter--"  
  
"I'm not actually kidnapping you for _ransom_ , Miss Stark." He takes out a piece of paper from his pocket and adds, "I'm kidnapping you at the request of your brother, Robb - who'd rather ask a pirate captain for help than see his sister get shackled to that dung munchin' fucking _Bolton_." He shrugs. "Can't say I blame him."  
  
Hearing her name - and that of her brother's - renders her bold enough to stand and snatch the letter from his hands to read it herself.  
  
 _Jon Snow,  
  
I write to you now--_  
  
"--Jon?" she says, looking up - half-remembering the older, sad-looking boy who _had_ been Robb's best friend back when they were still children, and reconciling _that_ memory with the man standing before her now. "You're... Jon?"  
  
He smiles at her again, and the expression on his face struck her as... friendlier, now.

Perhaps it's always been that way - she'd just been too afraid to see it.

"Hello, Sansa."


End file.
